


Pierced Flowers

by combatbootninja



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M, because why the hell not, flowershop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 01:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2603003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatbootninja/pseuds/combatbootninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt "I’m a florist and you keep buying flowers from me and what do you mean it was my fault we didn’t get together earlier you were buying flowers I assumed you had a lover"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pierced Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> My first actually finished dmmd fic, I'm still kinda trying to get a hang of the characters so please bear with me. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. (Also this is the first fic I've posted online for 5 years, please don't kill me)

Aoba was working a late night shift again. Why the local flower store even had one, he had no idea. Why did the unfortunate roulette of work shifts always land on him? He didn't have an answer for that either. Maybe the owner just really hated him. What Aoba did know, though, was that there was a very large chance of not that many people coming in at this hour, the sun having already disappeared behind the large bubble of Platinum Jail, bringing darkness before its time. 

He walked in to free the person working the shift before him from their duty, a weird guy with white hair and bizarre antics. Clear, he recalled. The person in question perked up as soon as he heard the bell on the door chime all throughout the store.

“Hello and welcome to- Aoba-san!” Clear sounded happy and Aoba wasn't sure if it was because of him or because Aoba arriving meant Clear could get going. Nevertheless, he gave him a smile and a friendly wave of his hand.  
“Hey Clear. You can leave now,” Aoba said, walking behind the small counter to put on his apron. Clear nodded, his happy demeanor never faltering. He took off his own apron before carefully folding it and placing it behind the counter.

“Alright then. I hope Aoba-san has a good night!” Clear said before he walked out the door, seeming to disappear completely. Aoba let out a sigh before flopping down onto the office chair the manager had gotten after getting too many complaints about forcing their employees stand up for hours. Aoba for one, was glad about the new change. At least he didn't have to sit at the counter anymore when no one was around. He was just getting started on work, about to stand up and walk around to see I any of the plants needed watering when the bell chimed again, a clear sound resonating through the air. 

“Hello and welcome to Flower shop Heibon!” The words left Aoba's mouth before he even had the time to look up at his customer. When he did raise his head though, he wished he hadn't. Him again. In the doorway stood a tall blond with rows of metal piercings framing his face. He'd been coming there at least twice a week for the past couple of months, buying different flowers every time. He only seemed to come by during Aoba's shifts, a fact that annoyed him to no end. Aoba wasn't even sure the guy actually existed in reality, that he wasn't just some sort of figment of his imagination. None of the other workers had ever even seen him when he'd asked. 

“Yo,” the man simply said, voice sounding just as bored as his face looked. He seemed to stare at Aoba longer than necessary, always had. It was something Aoba had gotten used to over the years though, his hair attracting a lot of unwanted attention. But there was something about the way the green eyes looked at him, something he couldn't quite pinpoint, but it annoyed him, nearly pushed him to the limit every single time. The dull eyes looked like they were seeing straight through him. Eventually the guy started moving though, looking through the flowers with something that might have looked like concentration if it hadn't been for the way his expression never changed. Aoba silently watched him, not bothering to offer any help, knowing it wouldn't be accepted. Finally he seemed to decide upon a bouquet of dyed blue roses, silently bringing them up to the counter. Aoba rang them up, telling him the price and then watched as he drew his coil through the new checkout hologram they had just gotten a week before with a fluid flick of his wrist. 

“You know, your girlfriend must be very lucky,” Aoba mentioned as the man was about to leave without saying a word. He turned around to look at him, brows furrowed in confusion.  
“What?” The simple word had Aoba flustered, stumbling over his words as he tried to explain.  
“Because- because you come here to buy flowers like twice a week and I just... Yeah,” he finished, looking a the ground as he felt the blush crawling onto his face.

He looked up as he heard a small “hm”. The guy was staring at him again, flowers still held tightly in his grip. His mouth turned into a small smirk as he caught a glimpse of Aoba's red face before he turned around again, this time walking straight out of the door. Aoba caught himself looking at the retrieving back through the window, quickly averting his eyes from the sight. He sat back down, twiddling with his coil in hopes of distracting himself. 

He did not have a crush, thank you very much. It was the blond man's own fault, walking around with that stupid face and those stupid piercings, being such a good boyfriend. Aoba was just lonely, he reasoned with himself, nothing more. He didn't have a crush simply because someone kept staring at him. The guy seemed like a total asshole anyways, never even bothering to say thank you. Or even a proper hello. So if Aoba spent the rest of his shifts in a daze on the days he would come visit, no one needed to know. And if he kept thinking about the bright green eyes when he got home, no one needed to know that either. 

For a few more weeks, it stayed the same. Aoba would go to work and he would be there like he always was, coming in twice a week at varying times, magically colliding with Aoba's schedule every time. He never showed up even if there was someone working with him, like he didn't want to be seen. But in the end, Aoba would always see the mess of blond hair and know who it was. And without fail, the man would buy some flowers and leave immediately after, never saying thank you or goodbye. Aoba never even got a name. 

And then one week, he didn't show up. At first, Aoba figured he was just busy, or something had come up, something he couldn't get around of. When there was still no sign of him after two weeks, Aoba started to grow worried. Maybe he'd gotten injured and was lying on a hospital bed. Maybe he'd broken up with his girlfriend and had no need to come by anymore. Or maybe, and this was the idea that horrified Aoba the most, he had gotten tired of Aoba blatantly spacing out and staring at him and decided to come around when he wasn't there. He tried asking his coworkers about it again but no one still knew anything about the pierced man. 

After the third week of not seeing him, Aoba was beginning to give up. It was his own fault, after all, getting attached to a complete stranger. He had no reason to feel as down as he did, like someone had just broken up with him. It was just a customer, he told himself, a customer like any other. It'd be best for him to simply forget all about it. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake off the feeling, missing even the annoyance the blond man's looks caused. He wished he'd at least gotten a name.

Weeks kept rolling by until it'd been almost three months since Aoba last saw him. He'd almost gotten over the stranger, thinking about him less and less every day, happy he was finally over his slight infatuation. So he was not expecting anything different from this day, walking to work while tying his hair up, running late and in a bad mood due to a broken shower. He got to work, glancing at a car parked next to the shop without a second thought before unlocking the door. He put on the white apron before turning the sign on the door around, officially opening the shop. 

Aoba then ventured into the cramped backroom to look for the small clipboard he knew was lying somewhere in there, waiting to be filled with inventory information. He heard the bell chime almost immediately as he left the room, giving a quick shout to the person in the shop.  
“Just a second, I'll be right with you!” When he received no answer he started wondering if he'd just imagined the sound before locating the clipboard under a potted plant, letting out a silent scream of victory. He walked back to the more public area of the small shop.

“Hello and welcome to Flower shop Heibon, how may I help you today?” He asked already before he was even completely out of the doorway, eyes fixed on the piece of paper in his hands. He froze as he heard a familiar, low voice.  
“Yo.” 

It was him. Aoba's head whipped up as soon as he heard the word, eyes widening as he took in the sight in front of him. The blond man was still wearing those stupid clothes of his, all white and black and green, but his face looked empty. It was empty in the sense that his signature look of blankness was evident in his eyes, but also in the sense that it was simply empty. Rid of all piercings as far as Aoba could see.

He looked a lot younger like that, Aoba thought. He realized he'd been staring again when the man let out a huff of laugh, breaking the illusion of seriousness on his face. Aoba looked at the ground for a moment before looking back up, all signs of surprise covered by a professional smile. At least he had hoped he'd managed to cover it all up, not quite succeeding judging by the amused look the man shot him. 

“Buying some more flowers today?” He asked, hoping the shakiness of his voice wasn't as audible as it felt. Three months of not seeing him had clearly not done their job after all, as he could feel his heartbeat quickening, feeling like it might jump out of his chest at any given moment. He sat behind the counter, not trusting his legs to actually keep him upright for any longer. He watched as the man shrugged.

“I guess,” he said, still not moving an inch. Aoba thought it strange, the way he kept glancing at his way instead of the usual, more direct looks. If he hadn't known any better he might have said the blond man looked almost nervous.  
“So... Do you have anything specific in mind?” He asked when the man still hadn't moved, hadn't gone off to look at the different choices like he usually did. Another shrug.

“I dunno. What do you suggest?” He asked, question startling Aoba for a second before he sprung into action, going on about the different choices and their meanings. He calmly waited for him to stop his ramblings before speaking.  
“Some lilacs, I guess. And orchids,” he said, green eyes looking muted again, like he wasn't really there. 

Aoba nodded before picking up the flowers, arranging them into a bouquet with a polite smile. He felt a small sting in his heart, burning him up when he looked at the flowers and thought about the person they might have been for. He was sure she was kind and pretty, the kind of person the blond man deserved. Rich, maybe. He finished wrapping up the flowers before telling the price and watched the man swiftly pay the sum. 

Aoba wished him a good day but didn't have the strength to look up at his face until a few moments had passed. The man was just standing in front of the counter in silence, not making an effort to even try to pick up the flowers he'd just bought. Aoba slowly raised his head with a confused look, about to ask if something was wrong when the man suddenly moved. He slammed his hands down on the flat surface, leaning over the table to look at Aoba with a frustrated look in his eyes. He let out a sigh before opening his mouth again, giving Aoba a glimpse of a silver ball on his tongue. 

“How many times do I have to come around for you to finally go out with me?” The words carried a hint of sourness in them, throwing Aoba off balance. He looked up at him in confusion.  
“Wait, what?” He asked, voice higher than he'd intended. He was sure he'd never been this confused in his entire life. 

“Don't 'what' me, you heard what I said. Or are you really just that repulsed by me?” His words started annoyed but ended with a hint of something Aoba couldn't quite point out. Was it fear?  
The man was starting to look more and more like a teenager the longer he looked at him, a frail atmosphere of possible rejection flowing around him. Aoba hadn't realized how long he'd just sat there before the blond gave out a resigned sigh. He panicked when he saw the man starting to move away, grabbing at the sleeve of his hoodie before he could move away.

“No but-” he started, thinking through his words. “What about your girlfriend?” He finished quietly. He watched as he shrugged again for what seemed like the tenth time this day.  
“I dunno. Never had one,” he responded, face rid of all emotion except for a slight look of amusement in his eyes.  
“But... But-” Aoba was trying to make sense of his words. “Why would you buy so many flowers then?” He nearly cried out, trying to put it all together in vain. He heard a slight laugh coming from the man hovering slightly above him. 

“So I could see you. I thought that was obvious,” the deep voice spoke right next to Aoba's ear, the man having bent down over the counter at some point. He tried not to shiver from the way his breath tickled his ear, failing horribly. He let out a silent “oh,” before the man leaned back, a small smirk on his face.  
“So are you gonna go out with me or do I have to keep coming back?” The blonde man asked, a playful look in his eyes.

“Or- or we can just do both,” Aoba replied, smiling as he saw a relieved look spreading on the other's face. He let out a yelp as the man suddenly grabbed his hand, pulling out a ballpoint pen from who knows where before scribbling his name and number on the back of Aoba's hand. He then turned around, not giving him a single look as he walked to the door, shouting a few words over his shoulder before leaving.

“By the way, the flowers are for you.” The bell rang again as the door closed, leaving Aoba sitting there, trying to process what had just happened. He looked down at his hand, messy handwriting now covering most of it. What the hell kind of a name was Noiz anyways?


End file.
